


Starfall

by SonneillonV



Category: Jupitearth - Fandom, Milky Way (Anthropomorphic), Planets - Fandom, Spaceship - Fandom, solar system - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 16:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1272877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonneillonV/pseuds/SonneillonV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic written during the planet-shipping phase that followed Jupiter's interception of a planet-killing asteroid in 2012.  COMPLETE</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The burn was fading with every passing day as Earth reckoned them.  It didn’t heal, per se – that would have implied biological processes – but rather, it lost its angry color and dissolved around the edges, sinking back into Jupiter’s skin as if it had never been there.  There was still some inflammation spreading, but Jupiter assured him that was not dangerous – there would be little atmospheric flare-ups for some time related to the crash, he said, and the impact site might blacken with soot, but nothing that would disturb his overall composition.  Earth wasn’t sure whether Jupiter was just being kind to his sensibilities, but anxiety lingered despite his reassurances.  He insisted on tending the impact site every day and Jupiter let him fuss, sitting quietly with that strange little smile that made Earth feel flushed and awkward.

Last time, as he was packing up his kit, Jupiter had reached out and brushed his knuckles across one cerulean cheek.  He hadn’t said anything, but as his thumb pressed against Earth’s chin, Earth had felt the weight of anticipation settle in his stomach.  He waited for… something…lips parted, eyes locked on the other planet’s, but all Jupiter did was caress his lower lip and then pat his hip and thank him for his care.  Still, that touch was enough to send tectonic shudders through him – he only hoped his poor, hapless inhabitants couldn’t feel it.

Mars swung by as he was taking a smoke break, dragging carcinogenic gasses into his lungs in the hopes of distracting himself.  Rather than calming him like nicotine, it made him feel flushed and turbulent, but at least things seemed simpler when he was on an aggressive tear.  He raised an eyebrow, but Mars just leaned in and sucked up a little smoke with him, exhaling with a pleasured sigh.

“It’s been a while,” he murmured, and then flashed him a sly grin.  “So?”

“So what?”

“Soooo, how’s it going?”

“How’s what going?”  Earth was baffled, and a little irritated at Mars’ needling.

“This thing with Jupiter.”  Mars lounged beside him, his tone implying that Earth should have caught on much sooner and was adorably stupid for remaining nonplussed.  “Come on, you like him.”

“Does anyone not like him?”  Jupiter wasn’t the unlikeable type, after all – steady and quiet, but with a powerful gravity that drew others into his orbit.

“That’s not what I mean,” Mars scolded.  “I mean, you  _like_  him.”

Earth blinked. “… What?”

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Mars rolled his eyes and shifted so he could loom over Earth, crimson eyes peering into his.  “You want him,” he said slowly, emphatically.

He smacked an elbow into Mars’ chest to force a little space between them.  “Fuck off.”

“No.”  Mars was grinning that knife-edge glint that said he knew he was on to something, and he trailed his fingers along Earth’s jawline.  “Ever since the impact you’ve been all over him.  I know how you are when you want something.”

Huffing, Earth smacked his hand away.  “It’s not like that.  He took an asteroid for us.  I don’t have to be the only one showing a little gratitude.”

“He’s been taking asteroids for us since we became neighbors,” Mars pointed out.  “What’s different about this one?”

“I don’t know!” Earth snapped, sketching a sharp gesture that betrayed his irritation.  “I wasn’t really paying attention before.”

“Of course you weren’t.  You’re marvelously self-centered,” Mars teased.  “Which is why I know all this tender concern, this healing-hands business, isn’t coming from pure altruism.  He’s sexy, isn’t he?” he murmured, leaning in to whisper along Earth’s ear.  “Big, strong, and quiet… so self-possessed… but you can just tell he’s passionate underneath… imagine what it would be like to tap into that, to have it all focused on you, every bit of it genuine because he’s the honest type….”

“Oh, Christ,” Earth groaned, rubbing his forehead as Mars’ word made his stomach flutter.  Nothing he was saying about Jupiter was untrue, but he wasn’t sure that was a complication he wanted to deal with right now.

Mars laughed.  “Is that another one of those local gods?  You’re so cute when you swear.  You know Jove won’t go for you,” he added, hooking his fingers in Earth’s waistband and tugging him closer by the hip.  “You’re so mercurial, no offense to Mercury.  You don’t stick with things.  Fast-changing – that’s what I like about you.  Eyes on the future.”  He nuzzled along Earth’s jaw, hand sliding around his waist.  “You’ll get bored with him, Terra.”

Earth’s eyes closed.  He exhaled a plume of nitrous oxide and rolled his shoulder, shrugging off Mars’ embrace with all the aloofness he could muster.  “Don’t,” he said icily, “call me that.  We’re not like that anymore.  And maybe,” he said as he dropped his cigarette, grinding it under his foot, “you don’t know as much as you think.”  Axis ramrod-straight, he walked away and left Mars staring after him, making the space between his shoulder blades prickle with the weight of his judgment.

X-X-X

“Am I self-centered?”

Jupiter blinked.  “Why do you ask?” he answered after a nanosecond’s thought.  Fortunately, Earth didn’t seem to notice his hesitation – he was focused on the impact burn, applying something from his arsenal of cutting-edge medications to soothe the inflammation and numb the sight.  Truthfully it didn’t hurt much anymore, but Jupiter enjoyed seeing Earth’s tossled head bent over him and feeling his calloused hands, so expressive when he spoke, slide gently over his skin.  The normally flighty planet became calm and focused when he was engaged in work he knew how to do, and Jupiter wondered if Earth knew how sexy that confidence was on him.

“Just wondering,” Earth muttered, and Jupiter softened a little.  Today had been different from the moment Earth showed up – he’d been withdrawn and sullen, refusing eye contact and letting Jupiter’s attempts at conversation drop into the void unanswered.  A sulky Earth wasn’t necessarily an unknown entity, so Jupiter had given him the space he seemed to need and wondered if he should attribute any significance to the fact that Earth, who usually withdrew when he was in poor humor, had not withdrawn from him.

He decided that was probably hoping for too much.

“Mars says I’m self-centered,” Earth said so quietly it was as if he was talking to himself.  “Fuck, I don’t know.  That’s probably true.  I know I’m not into the whole neighborhood scene maybe as much as I should be….”

He smiled and slid his fingers under Earth’s chin, tipping his face upward, coaxing him to meet his eyes.  Earth sighed and avoided his gaze at first, but as Jupiter’s fingers slid inward, cupping his cheek, thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone, he closed his eyes and melted just a little and when he opened them again those clear blue orbs were trained on his, vulnerable and wary.  Earth’s attitude was bigger than he was, but he was so fragile Jupiter felt like he was handling blown glass when he touched him.

“You’re young,” he said gently, and Earth arched a brow.

“I’m not that much younger.”

“Young enough,” Jupiter amended with a grin.  “And you’ve got so much going on.  Changes happen fast with you and your life forms, the way they sweep across your face.  It’s natural to be self-absorbed when you’ve got so much happening that needs your attention.  In all honesty, I think Mars might be a little jealous… he’s always craved your attention in particular,” he said evenly.

“We had a thing once.”  Earth sighed.  “You probably already knew that.  I like him fine, he’s just so….”

“Aggressive?” Jupiter suggested.  “Overbearing?”

“Right.”

He ruffled Earth’s hair fondly, just to see him screw up his face and growl in protest.  “You’re both young.  And you are his closest neighbor.  You two have a lot in common despite superficial differences.”

“Too bad he’s an ass sometimes,” Earth grumbled as he straightened his hair until it fell around his face again in a million shades of green.

“Well, most people are an ass sometimes.”

He took a slow breath and looked up again, searching Jupiter’s face.  “You’re not.”

Carefully, lightly, Jupiter laid his hands on Earth’s hips and eased him a little more securely into his lap.  “That’s not necessarily true,” he confessed.  “I may not show my temper often, but it’s there.  It’s left its mark,” he pointed out, taking one of Earth’s hands and guiding it down to the vivid red spot splashed across his hip, angry and seething.  Earth’s cool fingers slid across it and Jupiter breathed deep to steady himself against the urge to shiver at that shy, curious caress.  The younger planet looked so sober, contemplative, and Jupiter wondered how many others had seen this side of him.  So often he saved his nurturing for his own creatures.  “I have my failings,” he said softly, and brushed Earth’s hair back from his eyes.  “I try to make up for them when I can.  I think that’s all any of us can do.”

Earth’s throat convulsed, and he withdrew his hand, sitting back and putting a little breathing room between them.  Jupiter let him, expecting him to finish tending his wound and leave, but he didn’t go, and stayed perched on the ends of Jupiter’s knees, canted toward him as if drawn by his gravity.

“I think you have a great capacity to care for others,” Jupiter said as the silence between them stretched.  “Maybe more than the others give you credit for.  You’ll get it all figured out in time, I have no doubt.  Everything seems so urgent and tempestuous now, but that will change.  The pressure of all those living things will ease, you’ll grow into yourself, you’ll reach out across space without throwing yourself off-balance.  You’ll step onto the galactic stage and everyone will know your name, and know your accomplishments.  Be patient,” he counseled. “It takes time.  But to achieve those things, the first thing you have to achieve is self-awareness.  You have to be a whole creature,” he said, gently tapping Earth’s chest, “with all your own affairs sorted out.  And I think you’ve gotten a good start, so don’t worry so much.  All things come in their time.”  His knuckles trailed along Earth’s cheek, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear even as his other hand cupped his hip, settling comfortably against his body.  Earth sat hunched and distant, his thoughts turned inward, fingers idly picking at the seam of Jupiter’s pants.

“So, I’m immature is what you’re saying,” he concluded finally.

“Maturity is relative.  Look at Mercury.”  When this response didn’t seem to cheer him any, he squeezed his hip.  “Earth?”  A moment later, more gently, “… Terra?”

Earth sucked in a breath, and Jupiter expected him to tell him not to call him that, but the remonstration never came.  He slid back off Jupiter’s knees and cleaned his hands, packing his medical kit with brusque, efficient movements that indicated he really didn’t want to talk anymore.  The sudden distance sat ill with Jupiter, who couldn’t tell if it meant he’d offended Earth or angered him.  He stood slowly and watched Earth gather his things.  He wasn’t the intrusive type because usually he didn’t need to be – he could hold course and wait for other entities to come to him.  But Earth was notoriously stubborn and hard to pin down and Jupiter didn’t want to lose the rapport they’d built.

“Terra,” he said again as Earth started to leave.  He shivered and drew up short, med kit clutched against his chest.  Jupiter didn’t mean to loom, but he was so much bigger he couldn’t help but cast Earth into shadow as he came up behind him and traced the line of his throat.  That made Earth shudder again, and he wondered if maybe he’d misinterpreted the silence, the sulkiness, the evasiveness of the day… maybe there was more going on here than he’d assumed.  He leaned down and nuzzled Earth’s dark hair.

“I want to help,” he murmured.  “Let me help.”

Earth gave a dry laugh.  “Help!” he repeated.  “You want to help more?  This wasn’t enough?”  He turned and pressed his fingers to the edge of Jupiter’s bandage where the tape held it against his skin.  “I think you’ve had enough grief for my sake.”

Jupiter held his hips, forcing him gently into stillness, and pressed his forehead against Earth’s, backing him up slowly against the nearest vertical surface, keeping them close enough to breathe each others’ air.  “I told you before,” he said softly, “I think you’re worth the grief.  Terra….”  Tenderness lay thick and heavy on his tongue, and he tipped Earth’s face up, nuzzling him gently.

“Jupiter…!”  He exhaled his name like a protest, and Jupiter smiled.

“Jove,” he corrected, and Earth swallowed hard.

“Jove.  I…”  He didn’t seem to have anything with which to finish that sentence, or maybe Jupiter stole his voice when he leaned in further, a heartbeat away from a kiss.  The moment stretched and Earth gasped softly for breath, but he didn’t close the distance.  Disappointed, Jupiter relented and backed off – as deeply as he wanted Earth, he needed Earth to want him back or there couldn’t be anything between them.  He didn’t force his attention on anyone and he wasn’t about to start now.

“I apologize,” he murmured.  Earth looked up at him, eyes wide and fractured, and he winced internally at that look.  “I’m sorry, Earth.  I misjudge things too sometimes.”  He stepped back and gave the smaller planet a little space – he could be intimidating at the best of times and he didn’t want Earth to feel pressured by his proximity.  He tried to smile, but his mouth was warped by his chagrin.  “I suppose it’s obvious now that I… have feelings….”

That was as far as he got before Earth surged forward and gripped Jupiter’s shoulders.  He went up on his toes and pulled downward and Jupiter was too startled to resist, breath caught as Earth dragged him into his sphere and pressed up against him.  His lean body fit neatly into Jupiter’s protective curve, but a hairsbreadth away from kissing him he paused.  Jupiter couldn’t fathom how he could be unsure of his reception, after the misstep he’d just made… or maybe he was just nervous, because he was breathing shakily and his eyes were fever-bright.  Jupiter took pity.  His arms slid around that slender back and tightened slightly, enveloping him in strength and security.  His nose bumped Earth’s as they pressed close, but he waited – this time his patience was infinite.  If this was where Earth wanted him, he would never go.  He had all the time in the universe.

Earth moved by millimeters – there wasn’t much distance between their mouths.  Softly, slowly, core throbbing in his chest, he leaned upward, tilted, and finally brushed his lips against Jupiter’s.  That first tentative touch sent sparks through them both.  Earth melted against him with a dark, needy groan and Jupiter pushed him hard against the wall, covering his mouth, claiming him as Earth’s fingers sank into his hair and knotted at the roots.  For a small eternity they kissed, for a galactic age, for a million star-rises and star-falls and fell back hard into the same place and time when it ended, gasping against each others’ mouths.  For a while Jupiter just held him and stole softer, sweeter kisses from the calm, until Earth’s head nestled against his strong shoulder and he could bury his nose in Earth’s hair and drink in his scent.

“I want you to stay,” he murmured against those thick, kinked strands. “Will you?”

“Yeah,” Earth whispered.  “Yeah.  I want to stay.”

Jupiter smiled and drew him gently in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Discussion of non-con/dub-con and other sexual situations.

Being with Jupiter was different from any relationship Earth had ever had, though even he would admit that he hadn’t had many.  At first, he’d expected to be pursued because that was how Mars and Venus handled their romances – he’d anticipated cute little messages on atmospheric radio frequencies and ‘call me’ written in waves of starlight passing through the other planet’s gravity.  He’d expected to be ambushed in his rotation, swept off his axis into playful jaunts or even physical passion.  None of that had occurred.

It wasn’t that Jupiter lacked passion; he kept a frustratingly tight lid on it, but when Earth kissed him or touched his skin it was all thunder and lightning, an awesome turbulence that left him gasping and shaken no matter how gentle Jupiter was.  Earth could tell he wanted to go further than they were (just kissing, so far, and some light touching), but he didn’t ask for it and he didn’t press boundaries.    His patience seemed limitless, but he let Earth do whatever he wanted without complaint, even when that meant Earth had to withdraw for a while to get his bearings.  Initially Earth had taken this respect for his feelings as lack of interest.  When he pulled back, he expected to be chased, but Jupiter never seemed to chase, he was just  _there_  whenever Earth looked for him, huge and quiet and so solemn until he caught sight of Earth; then his eyes flamed with an intensity that stole Earth’s breath.  He let Earth come to him.  At first Earth felt awkward about that, like he was intruding where he wasn’t welcome, but it only took a few whispers of his true name and deep, hungry kisses for him to figure out that his welcome in Jupiter’s arms had no expiration date.

So it was different, what they had.  It was quieter, calmer, deeper than what he’d experienced before.  They talked, but they didn’t gossip.  Jupiter doggedly kept the conversation focused on the two of them or on the greater universe, and as a result, Earth found himself telling Jupiter things he’d never told anyone, not even Mars.  Speaking of NGC 3031, it had seemed totally natural to confess how much more beautiful he found NGC 300 in both color and form, and how it privately frustrated him that even if someday he could reach out and touch such far-off places, he’d never actually get a closer look – he was beholden to stay where he was for his life forms’ sakes.  Jupiter, who intercepted his share of interstellar travelers, understood.  He’d tucked Earth under one heavy arm and begun telling him stories of those places, pointing out the celestial bodies and in those low, steady tones recollecting what they’d sent to him in the billions of years since his birth.  In truth, he wasn’t that much older than Earth by the reckoning of the universe, but while Earth had been absorbed in a fury of change and genesis, Jupiter had been gathering, circumnavigating, watching and listening.  They curled up together at the high point of Jupiter’s orbit, drifting peacefully through the black, Earth’s head on Jupiter’s chest with his arm tight around his back, listening to the deep thrum of his voice.

“I think could stay with him,” he confessed to Venus one day as they indulged in a bit of higher-orbit cleansing from Sol.  The tickle of her flares left both of them a little raw, but it sucked away the built-up junk that tended to accumulate around them (especially Earth), resulting in an unsightly upper-atmosphere.

Venus paused and stretched, turning to keep her face to Sol’s arcing flares.  “What do you mean ‘stay’?”

“I mean ‘stay’.”  Earth picked a satellite between his fingers so he could scoop away the junk surrounding it and toss it into Sol’s corona.  “Like… for a while.  Maybe for good, I dunno, forever is too long to think about.”

“Goodness, is it that serious?” she wondered as she gave a shimmy, causing the sunlight to cascade over her supple curves.  That kind of activity had intrigued Earth once upon a time, but it didn’t seem to touch him now.

“I don’t know.  Maybe?”  He dangled fingers closer to Sol and felt the grime burn away from them, pulling them back before the heat could touch his core.  “I like him.  I like how I feel when I’m with him.”

“Mm-hm.  And how’s the sex?” 

He flushed blue.  “None yet.”

“None?”  Venus whipped her head toward him.  “Really?”

“We’re taking it slow,” Earth grumbled defensively.  “He’s not pushy like you two.  It’s not like it’s that important.”

“Um, I beg to differ,” Venus drawled.  “It is absolutely important.  You and I broke up over sex,” she pointed out.  “You and Mars got together and stayed together as long as you did purely for the sex.”

“It wasn’t  _just_  for the sex,” Earth muttered.

“Sweetie, I had you first, remember?  I know you pretty well.  It was mostly for the sex.”  Venus’ tone was sympathetic.  “And the only reason we pushed so hard was that you were such a prude.  If we’d left you alone it would have been an eon before you’d have gotten around to it.”

“That explains why I never felt comfortable with it,” Earth said tightly, and Venus bit her lip.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.  I regret it now, honestly.  I didn’t think you’d take it so hard.  And I admit, after you broke things off and then fell into bed with Mars, I figured you just preferred… you know…  _that_  type.”

Earth chose not to answer that, because he didn’t want to discuss the humiliating truth – that he’d been overwhelmed by Mars’ magnetism, that he hadn’t known what he was doing, that it had been Mars doing the pursuing and wearing him down until he gave in.  He’d confused pleasure with desire and Mars had made it confusing - still did make it confusing.  He’d said over and over that if Earth liked it, he must also want it, until Earth had believed him.  He had eventually gotten over the worst of his shyness, but even after Mars’ aggression and his tendency to act scornful when challenged compelled him to break it off, he’d found Mars’ passion an addiction that proved much more difficult to shake.  Jupiter had that same addicting passion, but Jupiter didn’t make things confusing.  With Jupiter, he never felt pressed, just… safe.

“You know, you both call me self-absorbed,” he said, “but I feel like you’re the ones who were too self absorbed to care whether I was ready.  Jove is different.”

Venus glanced at him through soot-black eyelashes.  “Honey, nobody is different,” she told him firmly.  “Everybody has needs.  If you expect to maintain a relationship, you’d better give that man something to stick around for.  Otherwise, if he starts looking elsewhere, you’ll have nobody to blame but yourself.”

A hard knot of anxiety settled in his core.  Her words sounded true, sounded reasonable; of course he couldn’t expect anyone to stay with him if he made them wait forever for what they wanted.  Any relationship was give and take, wasn’t it?  But he didn’t want to believe that, and he just couldn’t square that sort of predatory expectation with the way Jupiter had been treating him – as if he was made of spun glass, as if he was precious, as if he was special.  As if he was worth respecting, even as young and self-centered and meddlesome and dramatic as he was.

“Besides,” Venus was saying, “what if it’s horrible?  What if you don’t like how he does it?  He’s huge,” she pointed out, her amber eyes wide and guileless.  “What if you don’t… you know… fit together?”

That was a prospect he’d never considered but now the image was firmly planted in his head.  She seemed to read his deer-in-headlights expression, because she nodded sagely and flopped onto her back. 

“You have to think about these things before you start talking about ‘forever’.  ‘Forever’ with a terrible sex life is a forever of misery.  You’d better feel him out quick, if you know what I mean,” she advised him with a sensual smile.  “Before you commit to anything.  Oh, and when you do?  Don’t be stingy with the gossip,” she laughed.  “We’re all dying to know what he’s got hidden down there.”

Earth pushed himself back out of range and left her to sunbathe on her own.  “He’s a gas giant,” he said as he arced away.  “Use your imagination.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Discussion of non-con/dub-con, other sexual situations, not NC-17 yet!

Long silences were normal between him and Jupiter.  The other planet never spoke just to fill silence and he didn’t seem to need that kind of chatter from Earth.  Earth wasn’t quite used to it – he still prattled on sometimes when it got to him, when he felt like he wasn’t doing his part to keep the conversation going.  Jupiter didn’t seem to mind it when he rambled, and eventually he wore himself out and rested with him in silence.  Those were the best times, when it sank in that he didn’t have to perform.

It made things a little awkward though sometimes, as Earth was still figuring out how to navigate a space that wasn’t filled with words.  Jupiter had a maddening disdain of verbal greetings – when he saw Earth, his eyes would smolder and his striations would burst into motion, but he didn’t say anything as pedestrian as ‘hello’ or ‘hey cutie’ or ‘what’s a world like you doing in a system like this?’  He just  _looked_  at him and that was enough to knock the wind out of him.  It was crazy how much he wanted Jove.

 _If you want him so bad, you should just bite the bullet and have sex with him_ , he thought to himself.   _There’s no point in these hold-ups, you know you’re attracted.  Or what if Venus is right and he’s totally incompatible with you?  You’d better find out now, before you’re seriously in love with him._

He had a feeling it was a little late on that last count.

Jove was right where Earth knew he’d be, and when he saw Earth, as usual he said nothing.  His eyes gleamed and he stretched his hand out in silent invitation.  Earth took it, slipping his hand into Jove’s and letting himself be pulled up into his gravity.  Usually being wrapped in Jove’s arms made him feel secure and peaceful, but today his shoulders stiffened and the follicles on the back of his neck tightened as his stomach flopped.  He didn’t want to be touched, but it seemed hideously unfair to tell Jove that since he’d had no issues with it up until now.  His hang-ups weren’t Jove’s fault.

Unfortunately Jove was keenly perceptive, and after a gentle squeeze of Earth’s shoulder failed to coax him to yield, he helped him settle next to him and laid his hand against his lower back. Not having the weight of Jove’s arm around him made him feel less restricted, and he took a deep, grateful breath… Jove’s touch was grounding, and he didn’t want him to go away, but he felt prickly and skin-crawly right now.

“I’m glad you came,” Jove said, and Earth relaxed a little more.

“I thought I should talk to you,” he murmured, and Jove nodded, quietly accepting that.  “I… do you want to have sex?”  Earth winced.  He hadn’t meant to blunder into it like that, but he couldn’t think of a good lead-up and the question had been burning a hole in his crust.  Now that it was out, it sounded stupid.  Venus would have known what to say; instead of sulking off he should have asked her how to broach this kind of conversation.  Now there was no taking it back.

Jupiter’s smile was both wry and kind, and his hand slid gently over Earth’s lower back, rubbing soothingly across his axis.  “I’m not in any hurry,” he said.  “Why, do you want to?”

“No,” Earth said without thinking, then hastily amended it to, “not really.  I mean….”  He exhaled in frustration and Jupiter’s hand moved to the back of his neck, giving a comforting squeeze.  “I’ve just been thinking… about….”

“Sex,” Jove supplied helpfully, and Earth elbowed him, earning a wicked grin and a vigorous ruffling of his hair.

“Ack!” he complained, using his fingers to card it back into order.  “Quit it!  I’m trying to be serious!”

“So am I,” Jove replied, and his tone was laced with something dark and sensual that made Earth shiver, especially when he leaned in and nuzzled his ear, whispering, “I think about you all the time.”

That made him flush, and he squirmed, simultaneously annoyed and comforted by how readily his body responded.  “I… You didn’t say anything,” he accused, and Jupiter shrugged.

“Why say anything?  It didn’t seem like you were ready to make any of my daydreams real yet, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.  There’s no rush,” he murmured, stirring Earth’s hair with his fingers.  “I’m happy to wait for you.”

“Yeah, but you’re not really, are you?” Earth sighed.  “Happy, I mean, you’d rather not wait, right?  Who knows how long it would be?  It might be forever.”

Jove smiled.  “Forever is a long time.  I doubt it would be forever.  But if you really don’t want to, and that never changes, that’s all right.  I don’t need to have sex with you to enjoy you.”

“But that wouldn’t be fair.”

Jove shrugged.  Earth just sighed, so Jove rubbed the back of his neck, coaxing him closer.  Feeling almost safe again now that he’d vomited those words out, Earth curled up under his arm, wishing he could convince himself that he wasn’t being incredibly selfish.  “Are you not interested in sex with me?” Jove asked gently, and Earth squirmed a little, not sure how to answer that question.

“It’s not you,” he said finally.  “I’ve never really been… it’s just something I feel awkward about.”

“Did you manage to resolve that with Mars?” Jove asked, and then squeezed him when he felt Earth tense.  “You don’t have to answer that.  I just want to understand.”

“No.  It’s…” He rubbed his temples.  “Things with Mars are… were complicated.  He’s just… he’s Mars, and I just kind of… went along a lot of the time.”

“He pushed you to things you didn’t want to,” Jove said softly, and Earth sighed.

“Was it that obvious?” he asked miserably, and Jove nuzzled him.  
  
“No, not really.  But I was watching.”

Earth blinked. “You were?”

Jove brushed his fingers against Earth’s cheek.  His arm had migrated around his shoulders again, and Earth burrowed in against him, comforted.  “I’ve been waiting for you a lot longer than you know,” he confessed.

He frowned.  “Yeah?  Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“At first you were with Venus,” Jove said with a shrug, “and then with Mars.  You were never really available, and then even when you became available you didn’t demonstrate any interest in dating again.  I wasn’t about to try to place myself between you and someone else, and it would have been pretty insensitive to come after you when you were still getting over Mars.  I figured I’d wait until you were ready and then maybe throw my hat in, but to be honest, I didn’t expect you to feel the same fascination for me, and that would have been okay,” he said simply.  “I would have been content being your friend.”

“But we weren’t friends,” Earth protested.  “I mean, maybe if I’d realized what you were doing for us all this time, but I didn’t know.  I didn’t even know you’d noticed me.  You were just like this big silent guy who was never anything but nice, but we didn’t talk.”

At that, Jupiter smiled and brushed a kiss against his forehead.  “I was quiet and nice because my nature is to be quiet and nice.  But don’t let my introversion fool you.  I have always thought you were beautiful, I have always thought you were precious, and I have always simply wanted you to be happy.  Though I won’t lie,” he murmured as Earth turned his face up and surrendered a soft, lingering kiss.  “It means a great deal that you’re with me.”

“I’ll probably want to eventually,” Earth murmured when they parted.  “I honestly like you.  I like how we are together.”

“Whether it’s ‘eventually’ or ‘never’,  _you and I are okay_ ,” Jupiter rumbled.  “Do you believe that?”

It sounded like the sort of thing people said to comfort others, a little white lie meant to ease Earth’s guilt, but somehow he couldn’t believe Jove would lie to him that way.  He nodded, resting against him and letting some of that tension drain away.  “I believe you.”

“Good.”  Jove brushed his fingers over Earth’s coarse, kinked hair and kissed his forehead.  Earth was content to cuddle there for a few minutes and try to shake off the day’s lingering anxiety when suddenly something Jove had said came back to him.

“When you think about me,” he asked abruptly, “What do you think about?”

“Hm.”  Jupiter chuckled and leaned back a little, casting his sun-shadow over Earth so he could better see the stars.  “The usual, I suppose: touching you, kissing you, the way you would say my name.  Do you ever think of me?”  His tone danced with mischief, and Earth snorted softly, but couldn’t help a genuine grin as he rubbed his heel against a bit of interstellar dust.

“Sometimes.  It’s not a lot more than what we already do though,” he confessed.  “Just… holding and kissing.  I like it when you touch me,” he explained apologetically, “I just don’t know that I want to go that far yet.”

“How far would you want me to go?” Jupiter asked, and Earth huffed.

“What, do you want me to show you?”  He shifted a little uncomfortably and Jupiter laughed.

“I want to do what you want me to do,” he told Earth, “And no more, but also no less, so maybe I’m greedy that way.  If I play guessing games with you in my arms and I guess wrong, I could hurt you, and I don’t want to do that, so it’s easier for both of us if you tell me.”  His fingers trailed over Earth’s ribs.  “It this okay?”

Sighing in pleasure at the relatively neutral touch, Earth nodded against his shoulder.  “Mm-hm.” 

“And this?”  Jupiter’s hand slid upward, and suddenly Earth let out a bark of laughter, kicking out and squirming to try to trap his hand.

“NONONO NO FAIR!” he protested, and quickly found himself wrapped in Jupiter’s arms as the bigger planet doggedly searched out ticklish spot after ticklish spot until he was wheezing.  “Jove, no… life forms… my life forms….!” He protested between giggles.  “Oh, sweet mother of Buddha, all their little houses are gonna fall down… stoppit… chaos… NO not there you’ll destroy the cast of Sherlock… NOT ARGENTINA!” he squeaked, giving up and curling into a protective ball.  Jupiter was laughing, and Earth gasped as he regained his breath, rocking a little as he cradled himself.  “Leave my life forms alone,” he griped pathetically into his knees, slapping Jupiter’s hand in fake annoyance when Jupiter tried to pinch his side.  “They’re sensitive, you don’t understand.  Every time anything happens they blame the gays, it’s a whole fiasco.”

“They sound troublesome,” Jupiter rumbled playfully.

“You have no idea.  You’re better off without them,” Earth muttered, but Jupiter just grinned and kissed his head.

“I don’t believe that,” he said, and tugged and coaxed until Earth unfolded himself and let Jove tuck him into his arms again.  “You wouldn’t spend so much time caring for them or cursing over them if you didn’t love them.”

Earth sighed.  “It’s not the most fun thing ever.  I’d love to say ‘fuck it’ for a while, but I lost so many in the last major collision….”  He trailed off, and Jupiter squeezed him tenderly.

“I know,” he murmured, and Earth closed his eyes, picking at a loose thread on his knee.  “I remember how much it hurt you.”

“Yeah.  And it’s not that they die, they die all the time, but if they die OFF….”

“Nobody blames you for that,” he promised, tangling his fingers in Earth’s hair.  “We know how hard you’ve been working.”

“Yeah.  I guess I’ve just gotten lucky since that last….”  Earth paused.

Jupiter waited.

“… It was you.”

He didn’t respond – he didn’t think he had to say anything, and true to form, Earth continued for him.

“Since the last collision, when I was… you know how I was.”  His voice had taken on the shaky cadence of realization and his fingers trailed down Jupiter’s chest, pausing at the edge of the impact spot.  It was no longer bandaged, the last traces of it swiftly fading.  “And since then, there’s been nothing.”

“That’s not exactly true,” Jupiter said softly.  “There have been things.”

“Since then,” Earth repeated.  “That’s…. that’s a long-ass time.  You didn’t do that just for me.”

“Well.”  Jupiter’s mouth quirked.  “I don’t especially want Mars or Venus to lose a few kilotons… well, Mars maybe… but honestly?  They could take the hit and Mercury moves too fast for most things to catch.  You….”  He paused to choose his words.  “You weren’t the same after the collision.  Sixty-five million years if I remember correctly and the things you’re letting your humans do to you just so you don’t have to lose them too… you’re sort of lucky I’m a fan of noxious fumes,” he teased gently, leaning down to kiss Earth’s cheekbones.  “You’re stubborn,” he whispered, and pretended he didn’t notice Earth’s chest hitch.  “You want to keep them no matter how much it hurts.  I figured you didn’t need any more pain.”

There was another sharp hitch.  “Sixty five million years ago.  You… should have said something.  Why didn’t you say something?  I could have… we could have….”  His fingers traced the impact site.  “All that time you were taking my hits and you never said anything;  _you didn’t tell me_.  Why?”

“Because you have never owed me anything.  Terra…” Jupiter murmured, reaching for him, but found his hand knocked away and his lap suddenly full of Earth, who dug in his toes and forced Jupiter backward (this was possible only because Jupiter was too surprised to do anything but cooperate), knotting his hands in his collar.

“Shut up,” Earth exhaled, and kissed him.  His knees came down on either side of Jove’s hips and when Jove tried to steady him, he grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.  “Sixty-five million years,” he repeated as he bit and sucked on Jove’s lower lip.  His voice cracked and Jove surrendered – there was nothing here he wanted to fight.  “Shut up.  Just shut up.  Sixty-five million years we could have had.  It’s your fault.  I’m blaming you.”

Jupiter nuzzled against him as Earth panted against his mouth.  He understood what Earth was really saying – sixty-five million years would have comforted him after Venus.  Sixty-five million years would have saved him the grief of Mars.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, and this time, when he tried to pull Earth into his arms, Earth let him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: violence, discussion of non-con/dub-con situations, and sadly not NC-17 yet.

There was a thing about being with Jupiter, that it was easy to trust his words and good intentions when Earth was with him – at those times, it seemed impossible that anything could go wrong.  It was when he retreated to his own orbit that the doubts and recriminations began to swarm.  Venus didn’t help by needling him about it constantly – she was always asking questions that, in Earth’s opinion, were not her business even if they had been lovers once.  And Mars… well, Mars acted like he was terribly amused by the whole thing, but there was a dangerous look in those crimson eyes that Earth didn’t like.  He knew Mars’ moods too well; he knew when a storm was coming.

 

He and Jupiter hadn’t actually talked about sex since that one time.  He kept expecting Jupiter to get impatient with him, but Jupiter never seemed to.  He found a delirious amount of pleasure just in the sensation of Jupiter’s big, calloused hands sliding over his back or teasing over his belly – nobody had ever taken so much interest in the non-sexual parts of him.  He’d never imagined that soft kisses across his stomach could be so deeply sensual, or that the cool wind of Jove’s tongue tracing the lines of his coasts would make him squirm so uncontrollably.  He’d thought the rocky plates of bone that lined his body were there for strength, for reinforcement of his otherwise liquid surface, but Jove turned them into an erogenous zone, and he did it in such a nonthreatening way that Earth was pleasantly overwhelmed.  When he could relax and just feel, sensation became so much more intense it was like nothing he’d ever experienced, even with Mars, and at the same time it was so much more peaceful than he’d imagined it could be.  Once he’d fallen asleep under Jove’s hands – in his defense, he’d been tired already, but it wasn’t because Jove was boring him.  Curled up with Jove, happiness had settled over him like a warm blanket, making him feel snug and cozy.  The next thing he knew, he was waking slowly in Jupiter’s arms, feeling well-rested and safe.

He’d apologized, but Jupiter had just kissed his head and told him he’d enjoyed napping with him... and teased Earth about grinding his plates in his sleep, making squeaky sounds like a mouse.

He still didn’t want to have sex, but he was beginning to feel like it would be safe to have sex.  Jupiter put a lot of time and effort into satisfying his need for non-sexual intimacy, and as his trust in the giant was continually reinforced, he began to want to satisfy Jupiter too.  People had needs, as Venus had said.  For his faithfulness and lack of judgment, Jove deserved something from him.  He was hesitant, though, because if he did it once, Jove might think he’d want to do it all the time, and that still wasn’t the case.

He’d given up talking to Venus about it, because all she did was shake her head at him as if he was a small child and tell him he was taking advantage of Jupiter’s patience.  And Mars had been showing up unexpectedly lately with that threatening glint in his eyes and that dangerous edge to his smile.  Jove had told him that Mars was jealous of his attention, but he hadn’t anticipated that would still be a problem after all this time.  At least he left Phobos and Deimos behind when he came around.

“I don’t like how brittle your hair’s becoming,” Selene murmured as she braided the mossy strands.  “Your vegetation used to be so lush.  Lately it’s so dry… I don’t know how much of it I can braid without it breaking.”

“Can you just do your best?” Earth asked tiredly.  His hair was getting too long to wear loose, but he was hoping it Selene could bind it in tiny-enough braids he wouldn’t lose the pleasure of Jupiter’s fingers carding through it.  Selene’s cool hand on his shoulder steadied him.  “I’m sorry,” he said before she could respond, and she made a sympathetic noise.

“Trouble with your life forms?”

He stifled a cough.  “It’s getting worse.”

“I can see that.”  Her fingertips brushed his atmosphere and he knew she was taking the measure of the amount of carcinogenic gas that had taken up residence.  “How much worse can it get?”

“Before they wipe themselves out?”  He was silent for a few minutes while she tightly braided his locks, then said, “not much worse.  There’s a critical point they’ve got to reach with the whole technology thing.  They’re struggling, I guess, but they’re not quite there.”

Selene bent and kissed the curve of his shoulder.  “They’ll get there,” she promised him.  “Have faith.”

“I’m trying.  It’s close, they’re really close, I just don’t know how much longer I can keep things hospitable for them.  They’ve dug down into my bones,” he said miserably, “but they’re running out of pieces to cannibalize.  And you know, I’m used to it, but even if they’re using me up like this, I don’t want them to go the way of… you know.”

“I know,” she assured him, her voice musical and thoughtful.  “And Jupiter?  Can I ask?”

He smiled into his knees.  “That’s going okay.”

“And he’s treating you right?”

Earth tipped his head back.  “You’re the best sister,” he said sincerely, “and he’s treating me better than I’ve ever been treated.  I feel kind of guilty, actually… he takes such good care of me but I’ve been pretty negligent about taking care of him.  I just… I’m still getting used to this.  It’s SO different.”

She laughed.  “You said that,” she reminded him affectionately as she tied off one tiny, exquisitely slender braid.  Selene had always had the cleverest, gentlest fingers.  Her steady influence over his oceanic bodies supported entire ecosystems, keeping a gentle rhythm of push and pull.  Even though she was his younger sister, she’d always acted older.  At first, he’d rebelled against that, but in time he’d come to rely on her maturity.  “To be honest, I’m glad he’s different.  I worried about you when you were with Mars.  He’s also so aggressive, running around with those worshipful thugs of his.  He acted like he owned you.”

“ _I_   broke it off,” Earth reminded her a little testily, and she clucked at him.

“I know you did.  I’m just saying for a while I seriously wondered where your head was at.  But Jupiter has always been nice, I like him.  He’s the kind of good boy you should be dating,” she joked, and Earth snorted.

“Thanks  _mom_.”  He gazed at Sol’s bright corona while she worked on more tiny braids – there would be hundreds when she was finished, almost long enough to brush his shoulders, just barely long enough to pull back.  “Do you ever wonder where we’re going with all this?”

“All of what?” she asked as she carded a few more strands into a tight clump.

He gestured.  “This.  All this.  Everything.  I know most of you don’t think much about the future….”

“Well, you’ve got creatures living and dying,” Selene pointed out.  “Time is a little more concrete to you.”

“Okay, granted.  And those creatures, they’re going somewhere, right?  Somewhere out there, if everything goes okay.  If they figure shit out.  And what then?  What happens when they… I dunno… move on?”

“You don’t think all of them will?”

He sighed.  “Guess it depends how bad they leave me.  They’ve got to go somewhere.  There’s too many as it is; they breed so fast.  And they need things – soil, water, metals….”

“You know, you’re not the only one in the neighborhood who’s got those things,” she said.  “Tell you what.  Why don’t you ask around?  Ask Jupiter.  His sister Europa is young and impetuous but she has water, oxygen, and a relatively stable core.  Maybe having something to care for would settle her down a bit,” she suggested.

“Come on, Selene, I can’t start asking him for things.  He does enough,” Earth protested.  “You should have seen the rock he took for us….”

“I did see it, but you’re friends.  And it’s okay to be honest when you need help from your friends,” she told him firmly.  “If he says no, or if Europa doesn’t want to, fine, that will be the end of it, but there’s no harm in asking.  And you should get to know each others’ families,” she added, mildly chiding him, “since you’ve become so close lately.”

“Aagh, okay, okay,” he grumbled.  “How about if we have a block party or something?  Everybody can come and you can mingle and we can watch Swift-Tuttle swing by and take a meteor shower.”

Selene laughed.  “That’s not a terrible idea if you put it together.” 

“Well, consider it done, then.  There’s no way this could be awkward,” he snarked.

She squeezed his shoulder.  “It won’t be awkward.  It will be nice because he’s a gentleman and he cares about you and that’s all I need to know.”

He smiled as she tugged his head back.  “You’re the best sister.”

“Well,” she allowed.  “You just feel free to tell me that as much as you like.”

X-X-X

As long as Earth had known Mars, and Mars’s tendency toward ambush, he’d still never learned how to see him coming.

“So how’s it going with the big man?” he asked, emerging from shadow to intersect Earth as he rounded his apex.  “I haven’t seen you around much lately.”

“It’s fine,” Earth said, “I’ve been busy.”

“I see that.  I like your hair,” Mars said, indicating the cascade of neatly-tied braids.  “Always liked it when you wore it like that.  It’s a little more brown than usual, though, isn’t it?”

Earth gritted his teeth.  “Fuck off, Mars,” he snapped, keeping distance between them as he swung back inward.

“Yeah, I like that.  ‘Fuck off, Mars’.”  His tone turned dark.  “I remember when you cut it.  Do you really think this thing between you and Jove is going to last?”

“It’s lasted so far.”

“You’re fooling yourself.”  Mars stayed on his heels.  “What could he possibly have to offer you?  What has he got that I haven’t?”

Earth stopped abruptly, turned, and slammed the heel of his palm into Mars’s chest, knocking the surprised body back a few steps.  “You ask yourself that,” he snarled.  “Think real hard.  Maybe while you’re thinking you’ll come up with the reason we broke up.  They’re in the same neighborhood.”

Mars showed his teeth.  “I.  Didn’t.  Break.   _Anything_ ,” he ground out.  “That was you, Terra.  That was  _all_  you.  And he’s gonna figure that out sooner or later,” he added as Earth began to stalk off.  “He’s gonna figure out that you never give back.  It’s not going to be  _any different_ , Terra, wait and see.  You needed me!  Someone who’d knock you out of your own head and make you pay attention!  I brought you to life!” he shouted at Earth’s retreating axis, “and you, you were never as vibrant or as beautiful or as full of genesis as you were when you were with me!”

Earth paused.  His shoulders felt stretched, pulled so tight they vibrated, and his nails were digging into his own palms.  “Yeah,” he said evenly, “but I was never so miserable either.  Move on, Mars,” he counseled.  “If you keep pulling this bullshit, we’re not even gonna be friends anymore.  I mean it.”

Mars’ mouth thinned, and his expression was thunderous.  “Okay,” he said softly, “you do that.  Cut me out of your life.  You’re so selfish.  Whenever somebody doesn’t do what you want them to, whenever they don’t just lie back and take it, you turn your back and cut them off.  Maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe it’s Jupiter who deserves better than a stiff-necked little prude like you.  Do you think this is going to last?” he laughed dryly.  “He’s going to get sick of that tease.  Of giving and giving and giving and having you give nothing back.  Or maybe he’s so longsuffering because he’s had Ganymede there all along,” he snarled, “prettier than you, more willing than you.  It wouldn’t be the first time, you know that.”

Earth prickled, but as much as those words made his stomach lurch, he discovered that the core of trust he’d established with Jove was harder to shake.  The words came as if from somewhere else, somewhere untouched by his private turbulence.  “I think Jupiter can decide for himself what he wants,” he said with remarkable calm, “and I think I catch you following me again, we’re going to have more than just words.”

Mars snorted.  “What is that, a threat?  I can take you.”

“You used to be able to take me,” Earth corrected him.  He turned slowly, looked at Mars over his shoulder, let him see the death in his eyes.  “Now, I have nukes.  And if you touch me again, your insides are going to become your outsides and this entire system will see exactly what you are at the core.  You hearing me?”  Mars glared furiously, apparently trying to decide if Earth would actually make good on that kind of threat, and Earth turned, lifted one foot, and planted it in the other world’s chest, slamming him back.  He fell hard, and Earth placed a foot on his pelvis, leaning on him.  “ARE YOU HEARING ME?”

Mars coughed, eyes gleaming red, spitting the words out through his teeth.  “I hear you.”

“Good.”  Earth stepped down and walked away, leaving Mars to pick gravel out of his crust and fume.  Now seemed like a good time to go see Jupiter; he needed to ask him a favor and, flush with victory, he thought maybe he might be ready to offer him a favor in return.


	5. Chapter 5 (NC-17)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Terra <3's Jove

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NC-17 Content!

 

Since that little incident, Mars had been keeping his distance, which Earth was rather pleased with.  It had been a while since he'd had to physically assert himself with Mars, and this time had gone much better than times previous.  The added confidence was a boon - he needed every bit of it to approach Jupiter now, with what he had in mind.

It hadn't been easy to come to this decision - it had taken a lot of soul-searching on his part, a lot of parring down what was more important to him and thinking hard about what he wanted to offer Jupiter.  He'd come to terms with the fact that he wasn't doing this for him - it was all for Jove, because Jove deserved it, and because Earth wanted him to have a reason to stick around.  Because despite Jove's assurances, despite his steadfast care, deep down inside Earth suspected he'd eventually get sick of waiting.

And, having finally cast Mars aside, he wanted something better.  He wanted to give Jupiter a chance to show it to him, to prove his fears unfounded.  He wanted, desperately, for Jove to be worthy of the trust Earth wanted to give him.

So he'd made an effort.  It wasn't the most romantic thing he'd ever heard of - his humans were pretty inventive - but it wasn't bad.  And Jupiter had no life forms so he'd probably be impressed.  And if he accepted the unspoken offer, then... well... they'd find out pretty quickly if this relationship was destined to work out.

He found Jupiter deep in conversation with Saturn.  Saturn spotted him first - his sly gold eyes flicked to follow Earth's approaching orbit and he broke into a dark smile that sent shivers down Earth's axis.  Jupiter turned to see what he was looking at and lit up in a way that suddenly made all of Earth's fears seem silly and trivial.

"Terra," he said, his deep voice rumbling with affection.  He held out a hand and Earth forgot about Saturn for a moment as he stepped up and took it.  He let himself be drawn in, but Jupiter didn't kiss him - while Earth had utterly forgotten about Saturn's presence, Jove clearly hadn't.  He shot Saturn a look, and Saturn grinned and murmured something about seeing Jupiter later.  He arced away and then they were alone and Jove's arms were wrapping around Terra and everything was all right.

"I didn't expect you for some time yet," Jove told him as Earth pressed against his chest.

"Yeah.  I know."  He slid his fingers along Jupiter's striations, stalling for time.  "I thought... maybe we could talk."

Jupiter blinked.  "If this is about the colonization project, I haven't spoken to her yet..."

"It's not about that," Earth said quickly, and forced a brief smile.  "It means a lot to me that you're willing to consider it.  I wasn't going to hassle you.  I was just... thinking."

"Thinking."

He took a slow breath.  "About us."

He felt Jupiter's shift, a certain wariness coming over him, and he privately cursed himself because he wasn't doing this very well.  Jove probably thought this was a break-up speech, not an I'd-like-to-take-our-relationship-to-the-next-level speech, and he had only himself to blame for that.

"You've been amazing recently," he assured the gas giant, pressing up under his arm.  "And I know you said we never have to do anything I don't want to.  But I don't think you understand.  I don't think I feel like that," he confessed.  "Not the way you do, or Mars, or especially Venus."

"And I told you that's fine," Jupiter said gently, but Earth shook his head. 

"It's not fine.  Because I want us to be... more."

Jupiter raised an eyebrow.  "What we are isn't enough?"

"Will you stop being so dense?" Earth blustered.  "I'm trying to say I... that if you want to have sex, we can have it."

"I don't think my density is the matter at hand," Jupiter replied, and it took Earth a second, because he was so worked up, to realize that was meant to be a joke.  "Terra, physical intimacy is not a sacrifice to make on your part.  It never should be."  His knuckles brushed against Terra's cheek, pushed his braided locs back and tucked them away.  "I'm perfectly happy with--"

"Yeah, well, I'm not.  I want to do this," Earth insisted.  "Because... because I like how you touch me.  Because I want to... be totally joined to you.  Even if we don't do it a lot, I want you to know that we  _can_  do it.  It's okay if you want me because I trust you.  And you might not have figured this out," he added through his teeth, "but I haven't actually had much experience with entities I trust."

If Jupiter had been about to protest, that shut him up.  He still looked hesitant, so Earth took his hands and placed them on his hips, dragging them slowly up his crust, over the stony plates to the softer, watery surfaces.  "I want to know what it feels like with you," he coaxed, feeling Jove's resolve fracture as he pressed in close and guided his fingers over a particularly softly vegetated spot.  "Please touch me," he murmured, and Jove let out a roughened sigh and folded Terra into his arms.  They kissed slowly, and Earth let himself relax and arch into those exploring hands.

"You're sure about this?" Jupiter murmured, and Earth stretched out, offering him all of himself, arms around Jove's neck coaxing him down with him.  Terra smiled.

"I had a feeling you'd need some persuasion," he confessed, nuzzling against Jove, arching up into his touch.  "Look."  He turned his head and tilted, exposing the vulnerable spot under his jaw and the darkened shape that hid in the vegetation there like a bruise.  "I knew you'd want to hold back," he murmured hoarsely as Jupiter caressed the little green heart.  "So I... carved it into my skin.  Every heart is a place I... I want to feel your hands.  Your mouth."  He swallowed hard, blushing blue.  "I marked them out myself so you'd know that... that I'm certain.  That I want this."

"Terra."  Jove sounded awed, but also hesitant.  As he looked down, he realized there were more little hearts, more silent declarations of love and want, trailing across the lean lines of Terra's body.  He brushed his fingers across them, deeply tempted to bend his head and claim each one with kisses, because as sweet a gesture as it was, some of them looked raw and painful.  "Please tell me this didn't hurt," he murmured.

"You don't get to make that rule," Terra informed him, carding his fingers through Jove's swirling hair.  "Not after what you've done for me.  It's like getting a tattoo, if you... have any idea what that is.  A little sting for a lifetime declaration.  It was worth it.  Jove, I...."  He hesitated, found himself staring into Jove's burnished eyes, breath held.  "I'm pretty sure I love you.  I know I want to go all the way with you.  So I'm asking you to trust me.  Believe that I know what I want, and I want to do this with you.  It's not a sacrifice," he added in an embarassed mutter, "It's... it's a leap of faith."

"You have always been stubborn," Jove admitted with a fond smile, cupping Terra's cheek in one massive hand, thumb brushing over the crest.  "And impulsive."

Terra turned his cheek into Jove's palm, nuzzling.  "This isn't an impulse," he said quietly, firmly.  "I thought about it for a long time."

After a long moment, Jove gave one simple, understanding nod.  "I believe you," he said, and pulled Earth into his arms.

It was easier than Earth had thought it would be.  Jupiter enveloped him - he wrapped around Earth like a whirlwind, suspending and caressing him, thrilling him with the howl of teasing winds and flickers of lightning that set his nerves on fire.  Churning against his oceans, seeping into his crust, stripping poisons from him through osmosis as they moved together, Earth couldn't help crying out against his shoulder - wrapped in strong arms and essential elements, he felt  _clean_  in a way he hadn't for eons.  Jupiter found those tiny marks, secret hearts under one thigh, at the small of his back, at the curve of his hip, on one shoulder blade; he touched all of them, kissed all of them, pulled Earth's hair up and breathed along the sensitive curve of his throat and slipped a hand between his thighs to cup him as he rubbed his own length against the curves of his ass.  He was big - far too big to fit inside without serious training, but that didn't seem to bother Jove.  He held Terra close and touched him as he ground against him, and Terra let go and fell into it, giving his pleasure over to Jupiter and orgasming with an RF-static scream as he rocked in his lap.  Jove came soon after, huge body shuddering in satisfied pleasure, the howl of storm winds fading as he curled around Terra's body and kept him tucked close.

The lightning faded to static flickers.  Jove's hands still wandered, but their movement was sluggish and soothing.  "Terra," he murmured.  "You're all right?"

"Perfect."  He tipped his head back, settling his arm over Jove's so he could lace their fingers together.  "Thanks.  Really.  Thank you for... being careful."  He exhaled slowly and took stock of himself.  He wasn't raw like usual.  Nothing hurt.  He still felt like he was breathing easier.  Normally after sex he prayed it had been enough, because consecutive rounds aggravated his sensitivity to painful levels, but Jupiter's gaseous touch was soft even when it was hard.  He wanted to be enveloped again just to feel like that, to breathe what his own atmosphere had only trace elements of, to absorb what Jove could give him, to let him bond away the excess in his oceans and atmosphere.  He should have felt guilty about letting Jove take that from him, but in comparison to an asteroid, a little carbon dioxide was barely worth mentioning, and besides, Jove was a big boy (literally) who could handle his own atmospheric composition.

He turned into a kiss, pressed his mouth against Jove's, let himself settle against him.  Sleeping in his arms had been easy before - this time it came over him like dark ocean waters and Jove was there whispering, "I love you, stay with me," as he sank into peaceful dreams.

~  THE END  ~


End file.
